


Confessions

by vix_spes



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-11 07:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4427582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Midwinter’s Eve, Glorfindel attempts to gain his heart’s desire in the depths of Mirkwood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

Erestor watched the brightly lit Hall of Fire from his place on one of the many bridges around Imladris, shivering despite the heavy fur-lined cloak draped about his shoulders. Out of all of the feasts, festivals and celebrations that were held throughout the year, with the exception of Lover’s Day, Midwinter was the feast that Erestor hated the most. It was simply yet another reminder that he was alone and that the one elf he both loved and desired was not interested in him and most likely never would be.  
  
Glorfindel o Gondolin and Imladris. Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. Re-born warrior and hero. Gorgeous, out-going and everything Erestor wasn’t. Since his return to Arda, Glorfindel had taken numerous lovers, all of them male, none of them lasting long yet he had managed to avoid acrimonious break-ups and remain on friendly terms with them. At this very minute he would be with his old friend and partner-in-crime Haldir o Lórien, Celeborn and Galadriel’s Marchwarden. Of his other friends, Lindir was completely besotted with his latest warrior lover whilst Elrond and Celebrían were still engrossed in their five year old twins. Raising his eyes to the star-speckled sky, Erestor wondered if it was maybe the time to return home.  
  
Nobody other than Elrond knew that Erestor wasn’t from Lindon or Eregion as so many people assumed; he was originally from Mirkwood. His family had long been friends of the Royal family and Erestor had actually grown up with Thranduil, the current king, despite being slightly older than Oropher’s heir. Erestor had left Mirkwood shortly after the founding of Imladris as the peredhel was in need of an experienced advisor. Despite the events of the Last Alliance and the disaster surrounding Oropher’s death, Thranduil and Erestor had retained the close friendship of their childhood and remained in frequent contact. Erestor was even the adored uncle of Thranduil’s young son and heir Legolas, even if they had never met.  
  
After a few calculations, Erestor had made up his mind. Tonight was the first feast in the week leading up to and culminating in Midwinter’s Day. Seven days was more than enough time to make it to Mirkwood despite the weather. His decision made, Erestor left the bridge for his quarters. Erestor needed to pack and gather his supplies.  
  
The next morning, shortly after breakfast, Erestor made his way to the stables accompanied by Elrond. The peredhel watched silently as Erestor saddled his horse Ruin before carefully checking his weapons and turning to his friend. As he had expected, Elrond had been disappointed that the advisor would not be around for Midwinter but had understood and readily given his permission. Erestor smiled at the younger elf-lord and bowed slightly.  
  
“Namarie híren. Many thanks for allowing me to make this journey at this time of year. I will be back shortly after Midwinter.”  
  
Erestor was surprised when he found himself in an embrace from the peredhel. “You don’t have to thank me Erestor, I just want you to be happy. I have to admit that we’re going to miss you; it won’t be the same without you. Having said that, don’t worry about returning quickly, spend some time at home. I can’t remember the last time you took a holiday so feel free to do so meldir.”  
  
Erestor smiled his thanks and mounted Ruin before riding out of the stables without looking back. Elrond watched him go with the nagging feeling that there was something more than a simple desire to visit his homeland. He jumped as he heard a voice from behind him and turned to see Glorfindel making his way towards him.  
  
“Was that Lord Erestor híren? Where is our illustrious Chief Councillor going at this time of year? Surely he wants to stay and oversee the festivities that he’s spent so long organising?”  
  
Elrond turned and smiled at his golden-haired Captain and closest friend other than Erestor. “Yes meldir, that was Erestor. He requested and has been granted permission to return home for the holiday season. He hasn’t had a break in millennia and I couldn’t refuse him this. He will be back soon enough although it will be strange without him. Come Glorfindel, we need to rescue Brí from my twin terrors.”  
  
That evening, in the Hall of Fire, despite the warm surroundings, friendly company and good wine, Glorfindel couldn’t help but miss Erestor’s presence. Granted, he never ventured far into the Hall but Glorfindel always knew he was there. It was an odd friendship, that between the golden warrior and the darkling advisor but it was a strong friendship nonetheless. He also couldn’t help but wonder what Elrond had meant by returning home. Surely Imladris was his home now? Like many other inhabitants, Glorfindel had simply assumed that Erestor was one of the few remaining survivors from Eregion or Lindon. But apparently not. Glorfindel felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to smile at Celebrían before leading her out onto the dance floor – he was unable to refuse his lord’s wife anything. As he danced with Celebrían followed by Haldir and several rather comely young warriors, he couldn’t help but wish that he was dancing with Erestor.  
  
The Chief Councillor and Seneschal was a widely reputed beauty and it was no secret that many in the valley lusted after him. He hid his figure well beneath his robes of office but having seen him “off-duty” so to speak, Glorfindel knew that he had the slender, lithe figure of an archer. A visually stunning package but the looks were matched by his intelligence. Petite in height compared to both Elrond and Glorfindel, huge dark eyes that drew you in like a moth to a flame, slightly curly dark hair with hints of auburn in it flowing down to the most perfect arse Glorfindel had ever seen. He had held off on saying something for so long because he had felt that friendship was enough but the way that this holiday was going he had realised something, he was lonely. Elrond and Celebrían were both more in love than ever and had the twins, Lindir looked as though he may be entertaining thoughts of settling down with Talavaeron and Haldir was suspiciously enamoured with Melpomaen, Erestor’s assistant. He wanted what they had. More than that, he wanted it with Erestor.  
  
*****  
  
Two days hard riding later and Erestor had crossed the borders of Mirkwood. Another three hours of riding at the most and he would be within Thranduil’s halls. He had perhaps pushed Ruin a bit beyond his limits but he had wanted to reach shelter before the snows became any worse. Now, so close to his childhood home the feelings of loneliness and bitterness he had been suffering from had all but disappeared and he was filled with a sense of anticipation.  
  
By the time he reached Thranduil’s hall, the scouts had passed along the news of his approach. The King himself stood at the entrance accompanied by his son, closest advisors and captains. Thranduil’s face broke into a wide grin as he saw the lone figure on horseback, grabbing him in a hug as soon as the Imladrian seneschal dismounted. Erestor embraced the blond with delight.  
  
“Tor! It’s about time you returned home. Come, I want you to meet my son.” Thranduil turned and scooped up a tiny blond elfling. “Lasgalen, this is your Uncle Tor that I’ve told you about.”  
  
Erestor smiled warmly at the tiny elfling, smaller even than Elladan and Elrohir. “Mae govannen ernilen. It’s a true pleasure to meet you at last pen dithen.”  
  
Legolas leaned out of his father’s arms to envelop the advisors neck with his chubby little arms pressing a soft kiss to Erestor’s cheek. “Mae govannen Unca Tor.” He pulled back and cocked his head to one side much like a baby bird. “You’re pretty.”  
  
Erestor blushed profusely as Legolas squirmed in his father’s arms before climbing into Erestor’s. Immediately, much like Elladan and Elrohir, his hands found their way into the mass of curly dark hair. Thranduil groaned in embarrassment while Erestor just smiled indulgently. The King led his guest inside to the chamber that had been set aside for him near to the King’s own chamber. Deciding to keep Legolas with them, food and drink was ordered; they had much to catch up on.  
  
*****  
  
Two days after Erestor had left Imladris and Glorfindel was noticeably brooding. Surprisingly enough, it was the twins who noticed first and brought it to the attention of their parents. When Celebrían’s subtle enquiries failed to work, Elrond turned to a more direct method; he called Glorfindel into his office and ordered his Captain to tell him the problem. Glorfindel squirmed uncomfortably but after several glasses of rich red wine, the problem came tumbling out unbidden.  
  
“It’s Erestor. I’m in love with him. I had hoped that this would be the year I would have the courage to finally tell him but he’s run off to home wherever that is.”  
  
“Mirkwood.” Elrond supplied helpfully, trying not to laugh as shocked azure eyes latched onto him.  
  
Glorfindel was incredulous. “Erestor’s from Mirkwood? But he looks Noldorin not Sindarin. I always assumed he was from Lindon or Eregion; he was firmly established when I arrived.”  
  
Elrond nodded as he refilled the wine glasses. “He is Noldorin. His parents were Noldo who decided to settle in Mirkwood. Erestor grew up with Thranduil and is the single reason that there is contact between our two realms. He hasn’t returned home since I founded Imladris and I couldn’t refuse him when he asked. I think he’s lonely and that’s why he left. He should be home soon.” Here he pinned Glorfindel with a serious look. “Are you serious about this Glorfindel? Both you and Erestor are dear friends but I refuse to see him hurt. You do have somewhat of a reputation my dear Captain.” He gave a teasing grin to show that his comments were not intended to hurt.  
  
Glorfindel smiled ruefully. “Much of that reputation is undeserved and exaggerated Elrond. I believe my number of true dalliances can be counted on one hand and I broke them all off for the same reason; they were not Erestor.” He stoically endured the piercing stare of the younger elf-lord before Elrond was apparently satisfied.  
  
“Very well. Lord Glorfindel, I give you permission to leave Imladris. Captain Talavaeron is more than capable of taking over in your absence. I’m telling you this as a friend Glorfindel, I believe you and Erestor could be very happy together. Now go on, you have four days to reach Mirkwood before Midwinter’s Eve.”  
  
“Thank you Elrond.” In a flash of golden hair Glorfindel was gone and Elrond could hear him shouting for one of the stable hands to saddle Asfaloth.  
  
*****  
  
Four days. Four days in the snow and the cold; both Glorfindel and Asfaloth had been relieved to reach Thranduil’s halls. That relief had been short-lived when Thranduil himself had informed him that Erestor had visited a nearby glade that had been a favourite of his as a child. Thranduil readily gave him directions and Legolas piped up that he needed to “bring Unca Tor home quick cos there was cocoa and cookies”.   
  
Glorfindel nodded solemnly at the princeling and promised to do his best. It didn’t take him long to reach the glade and he stayed rooted to the spot, transfixed on the sight in front of him. Erestor stood in the middle of the clearing dressed in a black fur-lined cloak, hints of a crimson tunic underneath contrasting wonderfully with Erestor’s hair and the snow surrounding him and clinging to his hair.  
  
“Erestor!”  
  
The advisor’s head snapped up and a look of confusion crossed his face. “Glorfindel? What are you doing here?”   
  
The Seneschal crossed the glade to stand in front of the Captain, reaching a hand up to touch his face. Glorfindel reached his own hand up to keep the small cold hand there. “I had to follow you otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what I needed to.”  
  
Erestor raised an eyebrow. “It couldn’t have waited?”  
  
“It’s waited long enough.” Glorfindel took a deep breath and looked straight into those endless black depths. “Erestor, melin chen.” He held his breath but kept his gaze steady.  
  
“You’re telling the truth. You love me.” Erestor sounded amazed. He smiled shyly, bit his lip and rose up on his toes. He brushed a small kiss to Glorfindel’s lips. “Melin chen, maethoren valthen.”  
  
Glorfindel stopped breathing momentarily before he let out a delighted laugh, grabbing Erestor in his arms and swinging him around. The sight that it created proved irresistible to Glorfindel; snowflakes clung to Erestor’s dark hair and the cloak but his cheeks had flushed a beautiful pink that darkened as Glorfindel brushed his knuckles over them.  
  
“Melin chen seron vell. Ech pân i olthannen.”  
  
Then, under the snow-laden, starry skies in a mistletoe laden glade in the heart of Mirkwood, Glorfindel kissed his darkling Seneschal, the only Midwinter’s gift he had truly wanted and the best he had ever received.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/27391.html)


End file.
